


Masquerade

by moor



Category: Naruto
Genre: 15th Century AU, F/M, Fae AU, masquerade au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 13:37:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21282572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moor/pseuds/moor
Summary: Gift fic for Vesper from Alecto228: Setting- Masquerade-15th century-Sakura is hiding her true gender to learn medicine- about to be found out- deal is made to prevent this from happening.Pairing- ItaSaku. The boys are fae. Romance. She's piqued their interest in the past. She is pulling a hell of a trick by doing what she is doing and has done it well until this point.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Itachi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 207





	1. The Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vesperchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesperchan/gifts).

> Dedication from Alecto228 to Vesperchan:  
I’m an escapist. Life gets hard. At the end of a long day I want nothing more than to run away sometimes. I can’t though. I can’t physically run, but I can go somewhere else mentally. The stories that Vesperchan and Jaylene have so graciously gifted the community have let myself, and I suspect countless other readers, slip into adventures where we can find love, family, and friendship. We’re not so alone in those stories and if we are, it’s never for long. We come out so much stronger, much more whole for having our hearts ache. We’re better for it in the end. The time fanfiction authors spend honing their craft among their many other responsibilities is often thankless, but I feel very strongly about both of these authors and what their works have meant to me personally. The opportunity to ask Moor, an incredible author in her own right, to bring to life scenarios I thought of for Vesperchan and Jaylene specifically to show my appreciation was too good to pass up.

“You need a physician,” said Itachi under his breath, shouldering what he knew was more than half of Shisui’s weight. It was after midnight and normally their passage through the village would have for the most part gone unnoticed. Unfortunately, the harvest festival had the majority of the village up and about, stumbling drunkenly between the alleys Shisui and Itachi were trying to slip through. More than once they’d had to backtrack to avoid a crowd or reveler, and Shisui’s reserves were running low.

Pretending to laugh to conceal the injury in his side, Shisui sucked in a breath instead and pressed against the seeping wound.

“Why do you insist on ruining my fun?”

“Because I need you alive,” said Itachi, narrowing his eyes.

“Such sweet words, dear cousin. They warm my heart.” Shisui’s expression darkened. “Like the poison.”

“It  _ was  _ a cold iron blade,” seethed Itachi, his suspicions confirmed.

Shisui sighed through his nose.

“We won’t make it before the sun rises,” said Itachi. From between the two buildings where they lagged, he adjusted his hood, ensuring it still covered his ears, and glanced at the sky, gauging the phase of the moon. His brows furrowed, considering.

The pair slowed, leaning against the apothecary’s stone wall. The scent of midden rose warm and sour in the night air, making Shisui and Itachi’s noses wrinkle. 

Another burst of drunken laughter erupted behind them, closer than the last few, and Itachi straightened, adjusting Shisui’s arm around him.

“Things are winding down. We need to go,” said Itachi.   
“Where,” asked Shisui, groggy. His head listed to the side.

His lips a thin line and his dark eyes determined, Itachi set out, half-dragging Shisui. 

* * *

The knock on her heavy oak door woke Sakura while it was still dark.

Grabbing her overcoat, Sakura startled out of her chair and wrapped herself up, covering her long, pastel-coloured hair with a towel. She cursed herself for having removed her bindings so early as she tried to button her coat loosely around herself. 

“On my way,” she called, deepening her voice.

It was probably one of the lord’s staff who overdid it with the mead again, she thought to herself, carrying her sheltered candle to the door. One of these days she would remember to take down her sign before the festivals started, one of these days...

“Who is it?” she called, her hand on the latch.

“A friend,” came a soft, familiar voice.

Sakura’s eyes widened and mouth dried to cotton. Hurriedly she opened her door and ushered Itachi and his companion in.

“Who—what happened?” asked Sakura, checking behind them before closing and locking the door. “This way.”

Leading Itachi and Shisui further into her home, Sakura lit several candles in the wall sconces. Her guests wouldn’t require it but she would once she started running between rooms. Going by the sallow cast to Itachi’s companion’s cheeks, there would indeed be running.

“Cold iron blade, deep to the side,” said Itachi, lifting Shisui onto the examination table in Sakura’s back room. 

The air in Sakura’s lungs hissed out through her teeth as she lifted the hem of Shisui’s shirt with quick, efficient movements. Spidery black veins reached from the wound across Shisui’s pale skin. They crept towards his ribs on his chest and back like worms of decay.

“Water from the pump, a hot fire—very hot—and my instruments,” barked Sakura to Itachi. “Soak a rag in spirits and shove it in his mouth. He’s going to need it.”

Tossing her overcoat and hair towel to the side, she rolled up her sleeves. “And wash your hands!” she called to him as they hurried to gather her supplies.

“Ah,” agreed Itachi, drawing water from the well Sakura had in her rear, sheltered courtyard before cleansing himself and returning with a fresh pail.

“Lock the shutters and put my pestilence sign on the door,” said Sakura, washing her own hands and getting to work. “It’ll keep everyone away for a few days.”

Unconscious on the examination table, Shisui remained oblivious to the familiarity between Sakura and Itachi until he woke, several days later.

* * *

“You know a mortal,” croaked Shisui. The worst had passed and he now recovered in Sakura’s spare room. Earlier that evening, Itachi fed him medicinal broth and herbed bannock with jam to help him regain his strength.

From his stool at Shisui’s bedside, Itachi pretended to ignore his cousin’s thinking-aloud.

“We can’t stay much longer. Humans need to work to earn money,” said Itachi. “Sakura must tend to her patients. If I arrange horses, can you ride?”

“Not yet,” admitted Shisui. “In two days, yes.”

Itachi turned back to the broth, offering another spoonful to Shisui.

“Her name is Sakura,” said Shisui. He watched Itachi for his reaction. 

Something flickered in Itachi’s eyes and for once Shisui chose to tread lightly.

“How did you meet?”

Holding the soup spoon out for Shisui, Itachi focused on feeding his cousin.

“She knows what we are,” prodded Shisui. Resting in the comfortable patient bed, his arms atop the coverlet, Shisui let out a soft sigh. “So this is where you’ve been sneaking off to… I suppose I can see why.”

Itachi’s huffed lightly.

“Not so,” said Itachi, feeding Shisui some of the crumbly bannock. 

“Then how? Why?”

There was a knock on the doorframe of Shisui’s room and Sakura poked her head in. She nodded to Shisui before addressing Itachi.

“I’ve been summoned. I’ll be back this evening. Is there anything I need to add to the market list?”

“Lavender, birch bark and thyme,” said Itachi.

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Sakura. “I’ll see you this evening.”

“Your beard,” remarked Itachi. 

Sakura sighed, her shoulders twitching.

“Right, thank you.”

Pulling the false beard from her pocket, Sakura hooked it behind her ears and adjusted it on her face. Looking side to side, she caught Itachi’s eye.

“All straight?”

“Ah.”

“Until tonight!”

They heard the door close from the front of the house and there was half-beat before Shisui spoke, slightly incredulous.

“She is a he.”

Picking up the soup spoon again, Itachi lifted another mouthful to Shisui, which Shisui accepted. Itachi connected the last dots for him.

“She knows what we are... And I figured out what she was.”

Leaning back against his pillow as he swallowed the last of the broth, Shisui let out a long breath.

“Women are forbidden from healing here unless it relates to childbirth,” remembered Shisui aloud.

Itachi nodded.

“She is the best healer in the village and the nearby townships.” Itachi broke off another piece of jammy bread for Shisui. “In exchange for learning about our own forms of medicine, she provides free board to several of our own in case of emergency.”

Glancing down at his injured side, Shisui nodded once.

“Knowledge for safety.”

Itachi’s head inclined the barest amount.

“If you were anyone else, I would have been honour-bound to kill you for sharing such secrets,” said Shisui, frowning. He stared at the open-beamed ceiling, his shoulders slumping.

“She’s been healing some of us, too, hasn’t she?”

“I haven’t asked.”

“You don’t have to. She knew exactly how to treat my wound,” said Shisui. “Luckily for me.”

The end of his sticky thumb in his mouth, Itachi sucked the sweet jam from his fingertip.

“Who owes who?” asked Shisui a few minutes later.

Collecting the dishes, Itachi turned away to deliver them to the kitchen.

“We owe her,” he said over his shoulder. “But she’s not the type to call in favours.”

* * *

“A masquerade?” asked Itachi that night when Sakura returned. They sat at her long, plank-topped kitchen counter-table. Sakura mixed her medicines, made and ate her meals at the table, and read there during the day when there was sufficient light. Often, it was where she and Itachi studied medicine together, surrounded by books and etchings. That night, Sakura propped herself up on the table with her elbows, her eyes half-closed. She had barely slept the last week, so preoccupied with caring for her patients during the day and Shisui at night.

Dark bags weighed beneath Sakura’s eyes and her colouring was pale, her face lined with exhaustion. Covering her yawn with her hand, she nodded, her eyes scrunching shut. 

“Sorry, it’s been a long day. I had to visit all my patients in residence and some of them live on the far side of the village, beyond the parish walls.”

Sliding a plate of honeyed pear slices toward Sakura, Itachi nodded. With casual grace, he poured her a cup of sweet cider and offered her quarters of hard-boiled eggs and ham.

“You’re spoiling me,” said Sakura, grateful.

“You saved my best friend’s life,” countered Itachi.

“True,” said Sakura seriously, grinning when she heard the faint sound of Itachi’s chuckle.

“But back to the topic at hand. Yes, a masquerade tomorrow night to celebrate the last night of the festival. Everyone will be in costume. It’s the perfect way to sneak you both out of the village again.”

“Shisui still struggles to walk more than a few yards,” said Itachi. “He can ride, but not long.”

Sakura’s brow furrowed and she rubbed at her forehead. She had tossed her beard further down the table that night and loosened her bindings. Itachi understood the depth of Sakura’s trust in him when he saw such signs of vulnerability laid bare to his naked eye. She did not pretend with him. A part of him respected her for the lengths she went to to care for others. Another despised her need to wear such falsehoods in order to practice it. 

“I’ll…” Sakura yawned again. 

Inside him, part of Itachi warmed at how genuinely she behaved around him. It was refreshing.

“I’ll see if I can get a cart? Would that work?”

Itachi nodded. “A quiet cart. It will be nightfall.”

Sakura made a sound in her throat. “And we don’t need to be attracting attention,” she said tiredly. “Okay, I’ll talk to a friend to see if I can borrow their cart. And horses.” She rubbed her face. “Right,” she sighed. “I will bring the horse and cart back.”

Sakura lapsed into silence in the quiet intimacy of the kitchen.

“Sakura?” said Itachi after a moment had passed. 

“Hmm?”

It took Sakura a moment to swing her head back up to look at Itachi again, her movements loose and imprecise.

He gave her a small smile.

“Go to bed.”

Sakura frowned at him in a sulk.

“I thought you were going to say ‘thank you’,” she said, before yawning again. Letting her head lower to her crossed arms on the table, Sakura mumbled something to herself before closing her eyes.

At her words, a glittering light passed through Itachi’s eyes.

“Careful with words like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ around the Fae, Sakura,” he reminded her. “It’s dangerous enough that I know your name.”

“Mmmmm,” acquiesced Sakura. She didn’t look up from her spot at the table.

Soon her kitten snores filled the kitchen and Itachi simply took her in, listening, his chin in his palm.

Leaning against the wall outside the kitchen, Shisui watched the tender smile on Itachi’s face. It was such a rare expression that Shisui couldn’t tear his eyes away for a full minute. The millenia he and his cousin had shared together had involved many adventures, feelings and emotions. It seemed like a new adventure, feeling and emotion were dawning within Itachi.

After a quarter-hour, Itachi stood soundlessly, lifting Sakura effortlessly in his arms.

“Is that wise,” asked Shisui gently as Itachi carried Sakura to her room, passing Shisui on the way.

“Hn,” said Itachi, passing Shisui.

With deft hands Itachi nestled Sakura into her bed, covering her in blankets and checking her windows to ensure they were closed and locked before he left her room that night to sleep on the settee.

Shisui exhaled softly, leaving Itachi be.

* * *

The night of the masquerade was windy, thunder rumbling in the distance. Sakura adjusted her beard for the  _ enth  _ time, her gloved fingers itchy and restless.

Itachi rested a hand on hers, gently calming her fidgeting. 

“Everything will be fine,” said Itachi in a patient voice.

“You’ll need to be firm with the horses. The thunder may spook them,” said Sakura, worrying her lip. Determination shone from her eyes, though, refusing to be cowed by mere elements. “If you can give me just an hour or two—”

“Go to the masquerade,” said Shisui, sitting at the kitchen table. He managed a confident pose, barely propping himself up at all, and waved vaguely. “You need to be seen out and about tonight, or there could be questions. We’re going to make our way out of town and it will take us longer since we’re moving with a wagon.”

“Meet us at the clearing we talked about. We’ll be leaving the horses and cart there,” said Itachi.

Sakura pressed her lips together, catching herself before she argued. Noting her restraint, Itachi relaxed, squeezing her fingertips.

“We’ll wait for you so we can say goodbye,” said Itachi under his breath, releasing Sakura’s hand and reaching for his cloak. To his surprise, Sakura’s grip lingered on his. He turned back to her.

“You’ll get home tonight, and you’ll be safe,” said Sakura. “I promise.”

Their hands warmed as Sakura spoke, looking Itachi straight in the eye.

While Itachi knew Sakura was not fae, he could have sworn he felt the shimmer of a spell flutter down his spine at her vow.

* * *

The latest boom of thunder rocked the cart Itachi and Shisui shared. Itachi held the reins firmly, clicking his tongue reassuringly at the horses and whispering to them in lilting elvish. With a light glamour cast over them to make them appear poor and old, their plodding pace was comfortable and peaceful the further they got from the merrymaking in the village square.

“Been a long time since you spoke that,” remarked Shisui several minutes later. The bags beneath his eyes had deepened during their ride, but his mood had vastly improved. Shisui always had been the type to chase a storm, laugh in the wind and thrive in the wild. The closer they got to the ghostwood, the more chipper he appeared. 

“Drink your tincture,” said Itachi mildly. “And they like it.”

Shisui smirked. Lifting his small cask, he sipped at the medicinal tea Sakura had brewed him before they left. Every swallow strengthened him and he wondered, not for the first time, how she came about her healing skills. He’d never known anyone to live through a run-through with cold iron; she had to have magic in her. Her talents would be highly prized by any court… As would her fantastic bartending.

Lifting the cask again, Shisui enjoyed another sip. It tasted so delightfully light, too.

Seated on the bench beside Shisui, Itachi focused on their route, avoiding a dip in the road that could upset the cart.

“Your soft heart is showing,” teased Shisui, though his smile was genuine and proud.

“Hn,” said Itachi, unconcerned. His sharp eyes cut through the night, alert to any movement or hint of danger. Outside of passing the occasional reveller headed for the masquerade, though, they had little opportunity for trouble. They had cornered the village wall and were slowly plodding up the hill toward the wood. Another few minutes and soon they would be sheltered by the protection of their brethren, the trees.

“I don’t like being this exposed,” murmured Shisui. The horses’ hooves clopped regularly on the dirt road, their shoes clicking against the occasional stone or nail that had fallen from a tinker’s caravan. The rest of the night was silent. Not a single owl, toad or bat cast a greeting their way.

“Hn,” agreed Itachi, his eyes narrowing. Where  _ were  _ their woodland friends?

Their glamour was still intact, but Itachi shifted the reins to his left hand and rested his right on the short-sword at his hip. To his right, Shisui palmed his daggers beneath the blankets Sakura had wrapped around his shoulders to disguise him and help them appear impoverished. 

They were a hundred yards from the treeline when Shisui’s fine hearing caught the faintest sound of metal scraping against metal from behind the ruins of a stone wall, a dozen yards away.

Shisui tensed and Itachi’s expression blanked as he conjured a mist to conceal them.

“I can—” started Shisui, only for Itachi to shake his head.

“Save your strength. We may need it later,” breathed Itachi. He closed his eyes a second before the sound of the horses’ hooves disappeared into the thickening fog. 

Shisui nodded, silencing any hint of sound from himself, so as not to interrupt Itachi’s glamour.

Just a little further—

More metallic scraping erupted as the bandits clambered over the wall and began chasing the mist toward the forest.

“It’s a trick, get them!” one shouted.

Itachi leaned forward and snapped the reins hard. “Giddyap!”

Then he turned to glare at Shisui. “Stop.”

Jutting out his chin, Shisui leaned back, pouting and releasing the confusion he’d begun instilling in their attackers.

“Save it for if we need to run,” said Itachi calmly.

The cart careened and clattered toward the wood, the hooligans hot on their heels.

* * *

Laughing with some of her past patients, Sakura lifted her cup of ale—heavily watered down—and drank more. She glanced at the dark, heavy sky and the crowds around her, noting their increasing teetering with some relief.

Good. She had made an appearance, talked with friends who knew her, and had a cup of ale.

It was the perfect time to—

_ “—You’re sure that’s what you saw?” _

The speaker’s desperate tone seized Sakura’s attention. She inched closer, eavesdropping amid the music and laughter.

“Aye. I reported it to the magistrate, but the soldiers are all here for the festival. Best delay your visit for a few days until the ne'er do wells move along. That road won’t be safe if they’re about.”

“Where were they?”

“On the road by the wood, this afternoon.”

The ale in Sakura’s stomach soured and curdled in an instant.

The road to the wood. The road Itachi and Shisui were taking to return to their glen.

Heedless of the scene she made, Sakura barrelled through the crowd toward the stables where she’d left her horse saddled.    
“Move, move, move!” she shouted, shoving a heavyset man so hard he tripped over his feet and fell, hard, collapsing a table beneath him.

Tearing off her masque, Sakura snatched up and untied her horse’s reins, leaping into the saddle. With a quick kick she flew down the road like a bat out of Hell.

Unbeknownst to her, she left something behind.

Picking himself up from the wreckage of the table, the victim of Sakura’s haste looked down at his chest, frowning. Lifting off the item stuck to his shirt, he patted his face, brows furrowing deeper.

“... Did someone drop their beard?”

* * *

“We need to fight,” growled Shisui.

“You’re in no condition,” said Itachi.

“You aren’t going to be either if you keep wasting your— _ on your left. _ ”

With some impatience, Itachi gutted the brigand who tried to sneak up over the side of their cart. He kicked him off and steadied the cart again. There were less than a dozen yards from the edge of the forest. Unfortunately, trouble had been waiting for them there.

A muscle moved in Shisui’s jaw as he glared at Itachi.

“I am not fleeing and leaving you.”

“You’re strong enough to fly to the wood. I will meet you there,” said Itachi, slashing at another thug who grabbed hold of the rollicking cart. Two more dove for the horses, startling them. They whinnied and reared, and Itachi bared his teeth, spitting something vile in elvish at the men. 

Around them the wind had picked up, lashing at them and tearing at their clothes. The horses were panicking. 

Itachi tried to steady the horses, his jaw clenched. “They won’t enter beyond the treeline.”

“If Auntie heard you say that—”   
“On three,” said Itachi, his eyes glowing red as he focused on the forest. The horses bucked, too frightened to heed their master. “One, two, thr—”

A shrieking war-cry suddenly interrupted from behind them, and the sound of thundering hooves rent the night air, louder than the wildening storm around them.

“What in all the Hells was that?” gasped Shisui, paling. The sound had chilled him to the bone.

Sparing just enough attention to check the provenance of the sound, a hint of relief and surprise crossed Itachi’s lips before he turned back to the latest attacker, fighting him off with twice as much vigour as before.

“What’s got into you?” asked Shisui, brandishing his daggers and slashing away.

Itachi smirked. “We’ll meet you in the wood. Go, now.”

“We?” asked Shisui.

Another shriek rent the air and, thoroughly spooked, Shisui released his wings and took flight. With his still-healing injury, he couldn’t run the risk of being iron-touched again; on the cart he was more of a hindrance to Itachi than a help. At least this way, Itachi only needed to worry about himself. Cursing his injury, Shisui sped to the wood and landed on a high branch that overlooked the road. The nearby creatures who’d hidden from the outlaws began crowding around him to offer support, watching the skirmish. A racoon curled up beside Shisui, who sank his hands into the creature’s fur, seeking comfort.

From among the forest’s rafters, Shisui ken the screamer who rode to their rescue. She launched herself into the fray like a one-woman war machine, her sword severing arms from torsos and heads from necks with surgical precision. Her keening scream continued, bloodcurdling and shrill, as more and more men fell to her blade. Below him, the new rider jumped down from her mount and she went to fight back to back with Itachi. When her hood fell away, Shisui’s eyes bulged.

Long, flowing pink hair, feverish green eyes, and complexion as pale as pure moonlight, Sakura fought as ferociously as any fae.

Another scream escaped her lips, and Shisui watched as the attacking men began to tremble and fall to their knees, holding their heads. Some crying for mercy, others crawling away on hands and knees, desperate to escape her.

As the last man fell to her blade, Sakura’s lips fell silent. 

With some effort, Shisui released the branch and racoon from his sharpened talons which had sunk deep into the wood as he tried to restrain his reaction to Sakura’s inhuman noise. He’d never heard anything like it before. 

With the immediate threat vanquished, Sakura helped Itachi right the cart and re-secure it to his team of horses, sending them back toward town with a slap to their rumps. Then, side by side, they walked toward the forest. Sakura held the reins for her own horse, leading it behind her. There was an unnatural stillness between Itachi and Sakura as they walked, and yet, somehow, also a quiet intimacy and comfort in their closeness.

When they arrived at the bottom of Shisui’s tree, they waited for him to glide down.

Shisui looked Sakura over with new eyes.

Lifting her chin, Sakura met his appraisal with an expression of unapologetic challenge.

Feeling Itachi’s warning gaze upon him, Shisui turned to his cousin.

“You’re bringing a banshee home to Auntie?”

“I’m bringing a warrior home to her,” countered Itachi.

It was quiet a moment before Shisui offered his arm to Itachi; they embraced.

“I’ll vouch for you both,” whispered Shisui in Itachi’s ear.

Itachi’s sigh of relief made Shisui smile.

* * *

“You mean I didn’t need to wear my beard to the masquerade?” asked Sakura.

They made their way through the forest, Shisui atop Sakura’s horse as Itachi and Sakura led them.

Shisui shook his head. “Itachi cast a glamour over you so that no matter what, you would appear as a man to the humans around you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” asked Sakura, looking at Itachi.

“You rely on the beard like a veil to hide your true self. Even if you’d looked in a mirror without it and seen yourself appearing as a man, you wouldn’t have felt comfortable without it,” explained Itachi.

Sakura exhaled through her nose, considering.

“Maybe,” she admitted.

“It’s not a bad thing to be extra careful,” said Shisui.

Sakura and Itachi looked at each other and chuckled.

“Yes, that was a fine display of delicacy and restraint that we left on the road,” drawled Sakura.

“The forest will feast,” said Itachi.

They walked a bit further before Sakura’s brows knit and she glanced behind them, pointing her thumb over her shoulder.

“So they all thought I was a bearded woman attacking them?”

Itachi stared at her.

Shisui snickered.

Sakura groaned.

* * *

The forest sheltered Shisui, Itachi and Sakura from the storm that night, and at dawn they arrived at the toadstool wreath inside the cairn circle.

“I promised I would get you here safely,” said Sakura, smiling at Shisui.

“A lady of her word,” replied Shisui, winking at Sakura.

She shook her head, grinning wider. “Your fairy wiles won’t work on me, Shi.”

“Worth an attempt,” said Shisui, stepping into the circle. Straightening his shoulders, his expression relaxed. “I’ll head back first.”   
“I’ll be there soon,” promised Itachi, and Shisui nodded before he shimmered away in the rising dawn light.

The birds had begun their morning song as Itachi smiled softly at Sakura. His long, beautiful fingers reached up to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. His eyes caressed every feature of her face, resting on the expressive brows and eyes beneath them.

“I promised,” whispered Sakura.

“You did,” acknowledged Itachi in a low voice.

Her face beginning to crumple, Sakura pressed her lips together and nodded. She swallowed and held on tightly to her composure, inhaling deeply to clear her overwhelming emotions.

“You had to bring your cousin on our honeymoon?”

Itachi grimaced. “He followed me. He thought he was helping.”

Sakura choked on her laughter.

“Mmmm. Because getting stabbed, using up my supplies, and forcing you onto my settee to sleep instead of my bed is romantic,” said Sakura.

Sighing, Itachi’s shoulders slumped beneath his cloak.

“I’ll have a talk with him when I get back.”

“I only had one night with you this time,” said Sakura, cross. “Do you know how much I had planned for us this week?”

“I sincerely regret not enjoying your full, undivided attention,” said Itachi genuinely. 

He paused, tracing the shell of Sakura’s ear, so different from his own.

“Come with me,” he said impulsively, taking her hand.

“What? No. Noooo,” said Sakura as Itachi took her hand and pulled her with him toward the circles.

“Join me for a few days in my home.”

“I don’t think I’ll be very welcome—”

“I’ll ban Shisui from the grounds.”

Biting her lip, Sakura looked up at Itachi, warmth pooling in her stomach.

“... can I pack a bag?”   
As Sakura’s reluctance melted, Itachi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. He smirked sexily at his wife, leaning down to whisper in her ear,

“You won’t need a thing my hands can’t provide.”

* * *

Sakura roused from the most satisfying night—and day, night, and finally sleep—of her life at the feel of strong fingers rubbing her bare back. Smiling, she pressed her face into the skin of Itachi’s chest, her heart light as air as she woke in her husband’s arms for the first time.

“Are you hungry?” murmured Itachi, kissing the crown of Sakura’s hair.

“Mmmm… thirsty,” yawned Sakura, holding onto Itachi tighter.

His light chuckle rumbled against her cheek, making her smile widen.

“I’ll get something for us.”

“Stay,” mumbled Sakura.

“I’m not leaving,” promised Itachi, giving Sakura a squeeze.

Sakura nodded against Itachi’s chest. Then she heard the footsteps outside the door. Her hands gripped the bedsheets tightly and she stared at Itachi with wild eyes.

“There are people here!”

The evasive look on Itachi’s face immediately put Sakura on guard.

Sakura’s eyes narrowed.

“Itachi…”

“There is, perhaps, one last thing I need to explain about the fae,” said Itachi.

“Your highness, breakfast is served,” called an aristocratic voice from outside Itachi’s door.

“If they open that door, I am opening my mouth,” snapped Sakura, war-mode re-enabled.

“A moment,” called Itachi immediately. 

“Your Highness?” hissed Sakura.

“Of course, sire.”

A muscle ticked in Sakura’s eye.

“This isn’t my home,” said Itachi, smoothing his hands down Sakura’s back in a calming motion. “It’s one of the gardeners'.”

Sakura’s eye twitched again.

“Your gardener-king has staff?”

Itachi let out a small exhale.

Scuffing boots and shoving sounds came from the hallway outside the door, and Sakura began thrumming with suspicion. She glared at Itachi.

Understanding that Sakura would not appreciate his fae tendency to skirt the truth, Itachi admitted, “I’m the crown prince.”

There was a small shout from outside the door. The servant huffed, calling, “Sire, you have a—”

“Stand aside,” barked a male voice similar to Itachi’s.

Itachi tensed and began rubbing Sakura’s back harder. Kneading the knots that were rapidly forming in her once-blissful body. Especially when the servant outside’s next words were spoken.

“Prince Sasuke, your Highness commanded us to w—”

The door swung open to reveal a slightly younger, shorter-haired version of Itachi.

Sakura stared at him, quickly frowning into a glare at the condescension in the stranger’s eyes.

“And this is my younger brother, Sasuke,” sighed Itachi, when Sasuke froze, gaping at him. Itachi lifted the blankets a little higher over Sakura’s naked shoulders, protecting her modesty. Or possibly restraining her. The situation was devolving at a rapid pace.

“You’re… what… You’re with a woman!”

Itachi sighed again, maintaining his patience though all he wanted was a drink and a cuddle with his wife.

“Sasuke, close the door so we have some privacy,” said Itachi.

“But you haven’t taken a woman to bed in—”

“Sasuke—”

But Sasuke was staring incongruously at Sakura.

“Her ears—did you bring back a human whore—”

The rest of Sasuke’s unfortunate line of questioning went unanswered as Sakura interrupted with a magnificently soul-destroying round of wailing that announced that everyone in the immediate vicinity was about to die horribly.

Sighing for a third time, Itachi closed his eyes and lay back down.

Later that morning, Sasuke, like Shisui, was also banished temporarily from the kingdom.

“Just to the end of their honeymoon,” said Sasuke bitterly as he joined Shisui on a visit to a border town.

“Honeymoon?” asked Shisui, blinking. “What honeymoon? Did someone get married? Someone should let Itachi know so he can send a gift.”

* * *

  
  


**TBC**


	2. The Honeymoon [smut]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The honeymoon.

**Masquerade - Honeymoon:**

Sakura couldn't help her smile as Itachi wrapped his arms around her, holding her closer. It had been an exhausting day, and after bathing together in the courtyard spring of the beautiful, quaint cottage, Sakura relaxed and leaned into Itachi's chest. He hummed a little tune, swaying side to side with the music. He danced them through the main living area to the only bedroom in the cottage, where a small fire burned in the hearth.

"Should we get ready for bed?" asked Sakura, her head nuzzling Itachi's chest. She closed her eyes, her heart thrilling as she felt Itachi's kiss against the top of her head.

"Is that what you'd like?"

Warmth pooled in Sakura's belly, spreading through as her blood began coursing faster.

Itachi's hands began stroking her back, the callouses catching on Sakura's bare skin as Itachi traced the edge of the towel that was wrapped around her midsection.

Sakura's arms lifted around Itachi, squeezing him tighter for a minute, enjoying the feel of his tall, lithe body in her arms.

Did she want to sleep?

The hunger inside Sakura grew stronger. With deliberate, slow movements she counted each of Itachi's vertebrae, starting from the top of his neck and then travelling down, down—her smile turned devilish as she felt his quick intake of breath against her cheek—down to the low-riding towel slung around his hips.

The hardness against Sakura's stomach twitched as her hands cupped Itachi's backside and squeezed before tugging him against her.

She looked up at Itachi with a smirk only to find him staring at her with blatant need.

"Are you protected?" asked Itachi, his voice low and thick.

The hands at Sakura's back moved to her front, covering the knot that clutched her towel together.

"From... Ah," said Sakura, the haze in her eyes clearing enough for her to understand her husband's intentions clearly. "I can take something after."

"Is it strong?"

Kneading Itachi's rear and rolling her hips against him with intention, part of Sakura wanted to shout at him to just take her on the sheepskin rug on the floor, damnit. But another part of her was grateful he considered the impact their intimacy could have on her. She didn't think it was possible for her to love him any more than she already did, but when he asked her if she was ready for children and was willing to wait—how many men gave their wives such freedom?

She could certainly prepare a tea in the morning that would help prevent anything unwanted. If that's what they wanted... was it? At least she would have the night to think on it.

"Is someone feeling potent tonight?" she asked, teasing him with a squeeze.

To her surprise, Sakura saw the Adam's apple of his throat bob as he stared at her, his eyes dark and fathomless.

"Yes," was all he said. He meant it.

Leaning back slightly, Sakura arched her back—enough for her breasts to pop free of the towel around her middle. Her fingers tugged the towel free of Itachi's hips, and she heard his breath quicken as he leaned down to suck on her pulse, his hands pulling away the rest of her towel eagerly.

"Where do you want to be?" Itachi demanded.

"On top," said Sakura, grabbing Itachi's shoulders and hoisting herself up onto his waist. She ground into him as her lips found his, moaning as he tasted her thoroughly.

Itachi's groan of want was muffled between them when Sakura wound her legs around him, her wetness bathing his erection in her want.

"Get on your back," ordered Sakura, taking command.

"Hn," agreed Itachi, blissful.

The soft bed gave way beneath them as Itachi lowered them both down.

With several slow, deliberate pumps to help prime Itachi—and delighting in being the complete center of his focus as he watched her—Sakura had herself aligned herself and sank down on him, taking him inside her a little at a time.

Her soft exhale as he finally fit inside her left a soft smile on both their faces.

"A bit more than I was expecting," she admitted, leaning forward to kiss his lips.

Lifting his arms around her neck to hold her where she was, Itachi chuckled. "My manhood thanks you for the compliment."

Sakura laughed.

Together they followed their curiosities and instincts, meeting and retreating and pushing and pulling. As Sakura arched, Itachi's hand at her core to help her along, she thought she would break from the sheer overwhelming tension inside herself. Then she would push over the edge, Itachi's name on her lips, and he would catch her again on the other side when she fell.

Hours later when Sakura begged Itachi to let go of his self-restraint, he cradled them so that Sakura lay alongside him, his arms around her and his chest pressed into her back. With Sakura's hands tangled in Itachi's long hair behind his neck, Itachi pressed into Sakura in long, slow thrusts, occasionally huffing as he sang to her in elvish and kissed her throat.

The words were foreign to Sakura, yet she knew the moment Itachi released inside her from the sudden way he stiffened and the gently keening words he whispered as his voice broke. She would understand him confessing, "I love you," in any language he spoke.

"I love you," replied Sakura, smiling. She lifted his hands to her lips and kissed them in benediction.

* * *

**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> AN: There will be a small addition to this fic shortly. I know many of you would love to know how their honeymoon went. ;)


End file.
